


Better

by withthepilot



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/pseuds/withthepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is sick! But he has better things to do than nap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

At first, John can't hear anything because his movie is playing and his comforter-turned-man cave is doing a decent job of muffling all outside sound. But then the corner of the comforter gets turned up and there's Chris, looking more annoyed than he should for someone who's playing the role of caretaker. John pauses the movie and takes a strained breath.

"What?" he asks. It comes out a little snotty, in more ways than one.

"You should be resting," Chris says sternly. "Not watching movies on your phone and tweeting."

"It makes me feel better."

Chris scoffs and sits on the edge of the bed. "I can see how the movie might take your mind off being sick. But how does tweeting make you feel better, exactly?"

"I'm getting all these nice replies," John says, coughing into his fist. He scrolls through the messages sent to his username with his other hand. "See? 'Get well soon,' 'Feel better,' 'I miss _FlashForward_ '..." He sniffles pitifully when Chris gives him a skeptical look. "Someone called me 'poobear.'"

"And that makes you feel better than me coming over and making you soup? Famous Pine family recipe chicken soup?"

"It was amazing soup, really," John says, pursing his lips. "Can I have another bowl?"

"I told you earlier: You can have another bowl after you take a nap. But, fine, whatever. Watch movies on your phone, tweet your ass off. I'm only the person who's here to nurse you back to health. So what do I know, right?"

"Hey, man," John starts to say. He looks up and sees that Chris has already moved off the bed and is now doing his huffy stance, arms folded across his chest and toe tapping impatiently against the floor. And despite being all kinds of foggy, John doesn't miss Chris' envious glance down at his phone, where a still of _Groundhog Day_ is currently paused on the screen. "Is this because I didn't ask you to watch the movie with me?"

" _No_ ," Chris answers quickly, fast enough to tell John that "no" means "yes."

"You'll get sick, too," John warns. "But come on." He pushes the comforter back enough to make it look inviting for Chris, showing off all the empty space beside him on the bed. Chris hesitates for a moment, likely out of stubborn pride, but then shifts onto the mattress, a giddy smile on his face that tells John all he needs to know.

"I won't," Chris says. He pulls the comforter back up and snuggles against John's side. "The man cave will protect me."

John doesn't see how that can be, nor how Chris can be even remotely comfortable, lying in a stuffy space under a dome of thick fabric, next to a sweaty, feverish body that's radiating heat. But he seems perfectly happy as he cradles the back of John's head and guides it back toward the pillows. John acquiesces with a quiet sigh and taps his phone's play button once again.


End file.
